Method to His Madness
by aFirstClassVagrant
Summary: A mysterious monster dwells in Hueco Mundo, it's victims multiplying by the day. For the hollows, the end is nigh.
1. Prologue

**Method to His Madness**

* * *

**Description**: A mysterious monster dwells in Hueco Mundo, it's victims multiplying by the day. For the hollows, the end is nigh.

**Warnings**: T(possible M), Mystery, Adventure, possible romance

**Author's Note**: Enjoy.

* * *

**Prologue**

Death was not the end to life. The pale void that crept ever closer was not what devoured him. Grimmjow was still alive and yet he felt lifeless. No, what ended his life was emptiness. What had Aizen called this feeling? Apathy. A fancy word filled with bitterness. Aizen had always whispered pretty things.

"_Remember Grimmjow, I gave you a life so you could use it to repay me." _Aizen had said._ I am no longer alive._

Days, weeks, months. Time was a grain of sand in a desert of despair. He spent the first several weeks or months, he couldn't tell the difference, killing small hollows and the surviving adjuchas. The first week he ate over one hundred. The second, only ninety. Soon, a hollow once a week was his only energy source and then none.

"_You disappoint me, you could be so much more." I don't care. _

How had he lived before this point? Before his failure? He did not have an answer as he trekked across a sea of sand. Sand on sand on sand with the occasional white structures marring the tawny expanse. Even before the war, the desert was unyielding in it's silence. It held no secrets and Grimmjow once took a small comfort in that. The sands never judged him. Never humiliated him. But they never loved him either.

He grew restless and angry and starved from a lack of hollows. But soon anger turned into hatred, hatred turned into self-loathing, and loathing turned into nothing.

_I feel nothing. _

His once physically perfected form was a memory long past. An unnatural paleness began to bleach his complexion and his corded muscles relaxed into flabby mush. Pain marred his movements every day even though his wounds had healed so long ago he did not even remember which scars were from which fight. Worst of all was the heavy constriction in his chest that wrecked his breathing into gasps and sent searing pain through his head.

Perhaps he was sick, Grimmjow thought as he lay unmoving on the flat stone slab that was his bed. Perhaps he caught some foreign human disease from his dalliance in the human world a lifetime ago. Were hollows even affected by such things? Perhaps he would be the first hollow to die from a human illness. He laughed. Then screamed as his head split in pain.

Days on days and seconds on seconds. Time behaved differently between dimensions. _Perhaps every day here is a year in hell for Aizen_, he mused. How many were still alive? He had not seen another arrancar since the war. _Those cowards probably died like idiots. _Though perhaps Starrk was still alive. He hadn't hated him as much as the others. But Aizen. Aizen he knew for certain was defeated. The boy Shinigami would make sure of that. He must.

_Hah, when did I switch sides?_ It didn't matter. His life seemed so small now with nothing but his thoughts for company. Insignificant. He could recall every event of merit in his life. Every achievement of his could be counted on one hand. The day he learned his name. The day he devoured his comrades. The day Aizen took him in...

"_What is your name, newborn?" _Poison cloaked behind a white smile.

"_...Grimmjow." _

"_Welcome to our family, Grimmjow."_ Family._ I cared for those pieces of shit as much as I cared for you. _

"_Today forth you will be known as Sexta." _

And Sexta he was. The measure of him had already been decided before he could walk on two legs. His existence defined by his number...

It hadn't been a bad life. He did as he had wished, killed as he had wished. But he had always been restless, never stagnant after a battle, he had hacked and bled but it was never enough. He had continuously and ravenously craved for more than what he was, what was given to him by that man. But the Espada was beaten and the remnants of his ambition lost to the sands.

_Who am I now without it? Who is Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez if not the Sexta Espada?_

The desert responded with only silence and Grimmjow drifted off into slumber...

...

He awoke with a startle as the soul of a hollow two thousand leagues away vanished. It was as soft as a whisper, a broken thread at the foot of a monolithic spiderweb, but he could sense it. Smell the fear in the air.

Something had happened. Something big.

Hollows died by the hundred everyday, but this particular one had not been consumed, his soul had vanished. Hollows who were eaten by their kin never truly left the desert. Their physical self dissipated but their souls bounded to the one who ate them. A weak and starved creature could find solace in becoming a part of a stronger entity. It was almost romantic.

This hollow's soul had vanished from existence.

A ripple of reishi passed through the desert, it's fluctuations almost visible against the dunes. There was a grave silence that could be felt for thousands of leagues as hollows big and small waited with bated breath for the next act...

A second soul vanished.

A third.

Then a fourth.

The ripple turned a wave. Fear, excitement, and blood-lust tainted the air in a way not felt since the war. Grimmjow's thoughts raced amidst the collective excitement and the headaches were completely forgotten.

Was it a Shinigami?  
A Quincy?

Something new?

He had to know.

He surged to his feet and sonido-ed as fast as he could towards the source of the disappearance. He traipsed through the desert, the same path he always took yet somehow different. The desert was a blur of white and the clearest he had seen it in months. A cluster of columns he had never noticed before, older than the ruins of Las Noches, flashed to his left. Further, Las Noches could be seen in the horizon.

_This feeling_._ I have forgotten this feeling. _

He ran faster, stretched his arms out further and-

Grimmjow smiled, face to the wind.


	2. Monsters of Legend

**Act I**

* * *

**Monsters of Legend: Part I**

The world had fallen into darkness.

White clouds loomed in the distance, menacing blots permeating an otherwise black, black sky. So dark was the sky in fact, that the creeping shadows of an enormous fortress seemed to meld with the looming night, creating the likeness of a gaping chasm against the horizon.

_Do you see? _Whispered a voice, barely audible over the rustling of wind.

Beneath his feet, colorless sand, twisted and swirled, gathering speed, faster and faster. He noticed the wind was blowing it in the direction opposite of the chasm. Even the desert wanted to escape.

_Is this the end of life? _Ichigo asked.

The voice, so strangely intangible that he couldn't have described it if he had wanted, didn't answer him.

_You are quite useless, _Ichigo stated, wondering if the voice could still hear him.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream pierced across the dunes. A second shriek followed. And then a third, this last one deeper, danker with agony, and Ichigo felt his heart pang.

The voice spoke again. _Do you understand?_

_I don't know what you are talking about. _

From afar, the dark chasm was expanding, billowing limbs reaching out from the void grabbing anything in it's reach. A white building crumbled to ash as one of the limbs touched it.

_Why? Why must you show me these things if I cannot do anything! _He exclaimed, frustrated and exhausted. This was not the first time he had been here.. and he knew it would not be the last.

_Quickly... quickly understand, Kurosaki Ichigo...or..._

The voice never finished it's sentence, like usual.

More screams. Blood instead of sand was now swirling in rivets of red around him, the bottom of his uniform stained. The white clouds mocked him at a distance, chanting the words, _Understand! Understand! Understand!_

There was only one way to end this nightmare, one he knew well by now. Ichigo took a heavy breath and plunged himself at the chasm. He ran past the pools of blood frantically, ignoring the wet splatter against his legs. Faceless corpses and eerie clouds bore down around him, but he didn't care until, finally, darkness.

He looked back at the desert growing fainter in the distance, the fragments of light withering away.

Cold. He shivered, his soaked uniform clinging to his skin. A bitter cold...that sparked memories from long ago. But soon even familiarity disappeared. Here, in the barren dark, in the void, there was only madness...

Clammy hands reached for him, one covering his throat, smothering him in the darkness. His head spun, he felt his vision dissipating. It was overtaking him, devouring him_, Understand! Understand! Understand! _the clouds sang–

Until...

Kurosaki Ichigo opened his eyes.

* * *

"_... if I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear, and chiefly towards you my archenemy, because my creator, do I swear inextinguishable hatred. Have a care; I will work at your destruction, nor finish until I desolate your heart, so that you shall curse the hour of your birth." _

- Mary Shelley, _Frankenstein_

* * *

"Frankenstein, contrary to popular belief was not a monster."

The day was sweltering hot. Light streamed in brutal strips through abrasive blinds that seemed to all but avoid where he sat, the sun gathering around him like a beacon. Ichigo fidgeted awkwardly in his seat, sweat beginning to blot under the folds of his uniform. His classmates looked weary but none of them seemed to be notably affected by the heat.

It was the middle of February and while a curtain of ice still glistened on many streets in Japan, Karakura had plowed full speed into spring. Winter had passed like a fleeting heartbeat and the tumultuous days were gone before he realized they could never last. Now, only bouts of humidity disturbed the calm in Karakura.

"In fact, Frankenstein, or rather Dr. Victor Frankenstein was a scientist."

Words from the lecture were mere sounds and wouldn't linger as if his ears were covered by a thick blanket. The air felt sticky with sweat and dizziness overtook him.

It's not like he didn't want to listen, he told himself as he laid his head down on the desk and closed his eyes._ Just can't focus in this weather... _

"The monster of legend was actually-"

There was a pause.

"Kurosaki-kun please pay attention." The voice came from directly above him, sharp and brisk.

He jumped in surprise and the metal chair tips made a loud _creaakkk!_ that resonated in the quiet room. Heads turned towards him and he could hear a chuckle from across the desks.

"Sorry." The word sounded more gruff than he expected.

"...As I was saying, the infamous monster was a creation of Dr. Frankenstein's. Born through science it had the body of beast but the mind of a man." His classmates soon lost interest in him as the teacher continued. "Filthy demon, a blot upon the earth the monster was called."

They had been assigned a book called _Frankenstein_, a tale of a hideous monster that swore revenge against his creator. It sounded all too ridiculous to Ichigo and he found himself drowsing at the teacher's words.

_A monster huh... I saw a monster once. _His thoughts wandered away from the classroom and to a memory from long ago. To a creature clad in white with feathered wings like an angel. It was rather ironic that the strongest foe he had ever faced preferred wings and smiles over claws and mass. _He even had long flowing hair at the end. _

If Aizen had been the monster, he wondered what folks would think of himself, he certainly had not looked like any victim. _The black demon that sliced his wings off._

He rather liked the sound of that, after all, he had never been a very good hero. And after so long, reasons and causes, rights and wrongs were a faint blur, a fog in the background and only faces and names remained.

Sullenly, he scratched at his forehead and willed the old memories away. Since he was young he had always been inept at remembering people but recently it was all he could do not to dream of the past. Sometimes of that winter war, sometimes that other dream...

_"Understand! Understand! Understand!" The clouds sang... _

He shook his head in frustration. No... dreams were only dreams and the Winter War was only a memory.

Monsters were things from legends.

"Kurosaki-kun, is there a reason you refuse to open your book?" The firm voice brought him back to reality and Ichigo's head snapped up in a flash, an ache forming on the back of his neck.

Around him, heads turned to peer quizzically with books in their hands. "Right. Okay."

"That is okay _sensei_, Kurosaki-kun."

"Okay uhh... Fujimori-sensei."

A shrill snigger erupted from behind him and three more voices gradually accompanied the former. The teacher's hawk-eyes bounded to the noise and the voices hurriedly subsided. Ichigo saw her face knitted in frustration, tapping her forefinger on a copy of _Frankenstein_.

"My bad, Fukushima-sensei?" The chuckles told him he was wrong.

He tried again, "...Fujiwara?"

"Kurosaki-kun is always weirdly daydreaming, can we please continue the lesson... Azuma-sensei? " Said Ishida from across the room. He turned to glare at Ichigo, spectacles flashing.

He sighed, knowing Ishida was right. Such thoughts only brought trouble and as Ishida had taken over his job of protecting Karakura, he no longer had business with that world. _But how do I forget? _

"Settle down, we'll continue." The teacher urged.

"This creature was not created for murder nor was he born particularly vicious." She pointed to a passage in the novel."Yet why did he commit evil deeds? Why did he choose to be a monster?"

A girl piped from the front, her voice like wind chimes. "Greed?"

"Hatred!" Another student called out.

"Vengeance." Ishida sounded confidently loud from across the room. _Smart-ass._ Ishida swiveled towards him in his chair, his eyes threatening like he had heard the veiled insult. Ichigo faked a cough and avoided his eyes.

"Perhaps all of you are correct."She answered. "Emotions are fickle and perplexing, as are we who carry them. There was however, one emotion that affected him above all others."

He couldn't stop his chuckle when he saw Ishida's shocked face, eyes practically bulging against thin glass frames. It wasn't often the guy failed to be the best.

"One reason in particular that brought such despair and anger to the monster of legend that he decided to take action. It was-"

_Rinnggg_! The sound of the bell broke the lethargic mood in the classroom. The teacher sighed, waving to signal the end of class.

"Second-years, please read the first chapter for the next class!" The words were barely audible over the clamor of students rushing through the door. "Third-years, congratulations and see you all in a few weeks."

A noisy swarm of gray and blue surged past him like a heat haze. He sat still, gazing at the copy of _Frankenstein_ on his desk, the commotion and bustle not affecting him in the slightest. The novel was weighty and thick yet the writing inside was so small it looked like ants were crawling across the yellow-tinged paper. _What story would merit so many words? _

He imagined a story of his own life would be rather short. Karakura wasn't much of a castle, but he supposed the role of the great dragon suited Aizen. _But what happens after the words end?_ He glanced at the minuscule scrawl. _I saved the princess and slayed the dragon and what happens now... or do the trail of ants lead to nothing?_

"Kurosaki-kun, the class has ended." Said a tired voice.

"Oh." He replied absentmindedly. A draft had entered the room, cool and pleasant. Now that he was alone, the air no longer felt stifling, he almost didn't want to go.

"Please leave Kurosaki-kun. I'm sure you have many things to do, to think about." The teacher looked weary as she sat at her desk. "You are unwinding and remiss. It's understandable but don't lose sight of your future."

"I'm not unwinding." He replied, gathering himself and heading for the door. "Why did the creature do evil things? You never told us."

She seemed surprised at his question and gave a slight chortle."Why do you think?"

"I don't know. Honestly I'm not selfless enough to care about a fictional character."

"Maybe you'll understand when you finish the book."

"I probably won't be reading it." He voiced dismissively. The paperback was an uncomfortable weight against his side."It's not like I need to anymore... "

"Of course. We all do what we must."

He nodded before turning towards the door, noticing a sad little smile on Azuma's face as she watched him leave."Congratulations on your graduation, Kurosaki-kun."

Ichigo waved a goodbye over his shoulder and walked out of his last high-school class.

…

The walk home had always been a bore. The clinic rested on the other side of town, possibly the longest walk one could take and yet he never thought to get a bike. The wind was light and delicate, an improvement to the sweaty bleakness in the classroom and he enjoyed the quiet solitude. Taking the long path home, he circled Tsubakidai district instead of passing through the center of town. It was still much too hot and the air tasted bitter but Ichigo breathed deeply just the same.

As he neared his district, there was a shout in the distance. A high, yet sturdy voice from behind him.

"Hey Ichigo, wait up!"_ Tatsuki_. They had walked home together for years since their houses were so close, although that habit had stopped months ago for no apparent reason. _Or perhaps I was the one who stopped._

"Heeyyyy! Wait!"

She came bursting from around the corner, thick locks billowing in the wind behind her. Her hair had grown long. He hadn't really noticed before.

Chad walked out from behind her, his voice a deep timber as always. "Hi Ichigo."

They were acting normal, smiles adorned as if they had never been happier.

"Man you walk too fast-" She halted after seeing his blank expression. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He tried a smile. "Hot today, ain't it?"

She wasn't satisfied."What's going on with you lately, Ichigo?" Tatsuki asked tentatively, a hard look on her face. She walked up to him and clasped a firm hand on his shoulder. She stood shorter than him, her head barely reaching his shoulder.

"Is it... those guys again? The ones in black." Her voice was a low rumble, anxious.

The air was suddenly too thick and humid. Agitation hit him like a truck and he shrugged, moved away from her. "No, it's not. Why do you keep mentioning them?"

"Bastard, it's not like I want to bring it up either." She looked stricken. "It's because you keep acting this way!"  
"What are you talking about, you're the one acting up. Not me." He didn't want to talk about it.

"You! Acting like there's a stick up your ass! Stop being so conceited _Kurosaki_." She said his name like a curse, her eyes glistening with anger, threatening him to say something back. Chad was staring at him as well and though he didn't speak, his concern was obvious.

"I..."

He almost wanted to tell them about his dreams but the words stuck in his throat. The thoughts, or rather, the memories that dogged his footsteps were a constant presence, lurking at night in his sleep and even antagonizing him at moments during the day.

Sometimes it was images of a dark sky shadowing a white desert and the clashing of swords ringing under a crescent moon. Some nights he saw white walls and black wings but other times it was faces; faces among the dunes, before the walls of a loud city. Mostly he heard only sounds and words, and above all, he heard, over and over, the last words that those faces ever said to him.

_Goodbye_.

But he couldn't tell this to his friends, didn't want to disrupt their peaceful life with his fears.

"Look Ichigo, I know it might be hard, but you can trust-"

A sudden shrill noise erupted in his ear, ringing emphatically, a fracture against the low whistling of wind. He staggered in surprise, catching himself on a nearby metal rail. Tatsuki had stopped talking and was gazing at him curiously, but he paid no attention. The sound, the _alarm_ was coming from his own person. His bag.

His friends forgotten, he quickly uncovered the flap and riffled through the gray knapsack, brushing against a copy of _Frankenstein_. The noise was piercing and urgent, yet he knew it was also familiar, though from where he couldn't recall. His hand caught on a wooden object, the source of the noise, tattered and worn. He could feel a slight tremor rising from the object. No, the badge.

_Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. _His head was pounding. There was no way... it was impossible, especially after this long. It didn't make sense, the magic was long gone from the badge and now it was just a piece of wood. But there could be no mistaking it. The alarm was coming from his Shinigami badge.

_I thought I threw it away. _Time had tattered the light wood and three new cracks shone like ripples in the pine, although the skull had stayed the same as he remembered it. Did this mean his powers had come back? He felt no different and if there was an enemy, he could not sense them as he could before. When, whether it was in the middle of class or as he was sleeping, the badge would ring and an instant later, he would have found the hollow. Now, he had no idea where to head, only that somewhere, someone needed his help.

Tatsuki and Chad were still staring at him, their faces a bit panicked. _That's right... they can't hear it. _He thought about telling them, or finding Ishida. If there was indeed a hollow, the Quincy would be one to call. But this had to be a sign. A call sent to a broken badge with an owner that by all logic, could do nothing about it. _And yet it still came to me as well as these dreams. There must be a reason._

He had to find out.

Ichigo clutched the badge tightly, still in the confines of his bag."Sorry Tatsuki, Chad... for everything. I have to go." He broke off in a sprint, flying past his two friends.

"Hey, where are you going, we were talking... It IS them isn't it!" Chad and Tatsuki were running after him, but he soon eluded them.

"What aren't you telling us, Ichigo?" She sounded desperate. "Ichigoooo!"

Ichigo stopped by an alleyway to spare a backwards glance at his two best friends, breathing heavily, before dashing away again."I'll see you later!" He hoped. Or did he_? Do I want to return? _He remembered the trail of tiny words dotting the pages of_ Frankenstein__._ To my happy ending...The voices of his friends faded in the distance, until they were only a whisper. _More like bitter ending, but it is still mine. I will not forget. _

Yet promises were easily made and hard to keep and as he rushed past crowds and tall buildings, their multicolored inhabitants retiring for the day, he could not help but see another image, another memory; wooden houses instead of the white in Karakura, figures in black robes that lacked any real novelty dancing among them. He saw himself atop a shingled roof, promising the world to her with only a jagged blade and then- a small smile from an even smaller source; her's was darker than any other.

His heart was hammering, a giddy thunder in his chest, and he pushed himself to run faster.

In front of him, the clouds lifted and dusk blazed with a rush of color- Rich reds and pleasing purples under a blue sky, not yet overtaken by the blanket of night. Hours passed and his feet carried him further, searching for something, anything; an injured woman, a lost child, any disturbance in the quiet town that might have indicated a hollow, but he found nothing and soon the clear path became worn with age, sunlight and color disappeared into cloaked shadow and the only light came from the soft flickering of the badge.

_This is pointless._

The alarm rang incessantly and the badge flared in his hand. He had never wished to go back to that world and yet it had reached out to him anyway. In his dreams, as well as with the badge. Perhaps he should have stopped and headed home, but as the darkness started to settle in around him, he knew that there was no turning back now, the night had come and the time for thinking had past. Ichigo stood on the edge of fate, a dubious path ahead of him and a safe one behind and suddenly, the choice seemed simple.

_Do you see? Do you understand? _

"If you still have business with me," He shouted out into the darkness, the road he was on was dank and narrow, pieces of gravel had been uprooted till there was dirt strewn in piles beside him. "Fine, I'll come, but dammit, this had better be the last time you bastards!"

The night gave no response and he was spent and tired from hours of searching, the badge a ringing pest in his ear. With a sense of foreboding, Ichigo turned and headed to the only place he knew would have answers.

...


	3. Monsters of Legend II

**Monsters of Legend: Part II**

* * *

Urahara Kisuke's shop was hidden in the dingy recesses of the shop district. The crummy roof shingles were cracked and gray with age, and the white paint was tainted with yellow muck; altogether the shop was grubby, confined and practically invisible. Ichigo wondered how the man even got customers.

There was shouting inside the shab establishment, a young boy's voice rang loudly till it echoed across the courtyard where he stood. The noises were barely concealed, separated by thin wall, and he could hear the boy complaining about some lost possession. Soon, a girl's voice followed, weepy and timid, her voice reminding him of small tabby cat.

He considered barging in, but the wooden screen doors were suddenly shoved aside to reveal the source of the shouting; a small boy with red hair, irritation seeping out from him.

Jinta... that was the boy's name, he recalled. He looked a bit older, his hair was now slicked back and his features more defined. Yet despite that– "Still a shrimp huh?" Ichigo gave him a brash smile. It had been a while since he had last smiled... the movement felt awkward on his face.

"Who the fuc– " Jinta's posture became hostile a few feet from him, his hands clenching, before recognition flashed in his eyes. "–Is that you, Ichigo?"

"There aren't many others who would come by a dump like this." He glanced around, seeing the cracked paint and flakes of wood scattered on the ground. "How do you make money?"

"People come from time to time. Your sisters–" Jinta hesitated. "Uhh..."

"What about my sisters, shrimp?" He pried in a daunting tone. Karin did tend to come home at odd times lately...

"Never-mind, anyway, what'cha doing here?" Jinta said hurriedly. "Ah, wait wait, I'll go fetch the idiot." He stumbled back into the shop in a haste, leaving Ichigo amused by the doorstep.

It had surprised him to see Jinta grown up, if only slightly in two years. Somehow he had believed that coming here, things would have stayed the same. That the world he left behind would stay frozen in time until... _until what? _

There was a noisy commotion and Jinta burst out from behind the wooden frame, a slim man trailing his footsteps.

_And that must be the idiot– _

"Kurosaki-kun, what a pleasant surprise." The man called out in a chirpy voice from behind his trademark folding fan.

_Some things never changed_, he thought as Urahara in his green_ haori_ and bucket hat came into view. Ichigo found that he felt somewhat lighter, as if the familiar sight eased the discord in his head.

It had been a few months since he had last seen Urahara, after all, they had no reason to meet. The last time had been through his bedroom window, looking down at a meeting between his father and the shopkeeper. They had spoken in hushed, furtive whispers, enveloped by black shadows, and when Isshin came back inside, there was a distraught look in his eyes. He had never asked Isshin about that meeting, yet he knew that something had gone wrong, something had happened in _that_ place, and perhaps it now involved him.

"Urahara, I need your help." He inclined his head slightly in greeting. "There's an enemy in town somewhere."

Curious, Urahara lowered his folding fan."A hollow?"

"Possibly."

"Hmm..." The shopkeeper turned away from him abruptly and faced the road, a distant look on his face. _He is searching,_ Ichigo realized.

Finally, Urahara concluded,"There is no hollow in Karakura, Kurosaki-kun,– " There was a pause as Urahara glanced pointedly towards him, his voice lower and barely above a whisper."–where did you hear this?"

Reaching into his pack, he pulled out the badge. The sound of the alarm had lessened and was now only a dull buzz in his ear and he pushed the object towards Urahara.

"Oh my...my." Urahara muttered fervently as he examined the small wooden object, turning it over in his hand. "What do we have here... how _interesting._ "

"I haven't been able to stop the alarm, " Ichigo explained. The shopkeeper was now tapping the badge with the end of his cane. "If there's no hollow, I don't know why the Shinigami decided to fix the badge."

"Kukuku, you are mistaken Kurosaki-kun,– " There was a devilish smile on his face." –This is neither an alarm nor was it sent by Soul Society."

"These badges are often used as communication devices, and someone, or _something, _has sent you a message." The shopkeeper continued, a rapt look in his eyes.

"What do you mean _something_?" His thoughts were racing. If it wasn't a Shinigami, then...

"The badge lost it's powers when you lost yours... but someone else has embedded their own spiritual powers into the badge. They are trying to communicate with you."

Urahara handed him back the badge. His eyes were focused, scrutinizing Ichigo. "I can't hear the message, only the owner of the badge can."

"How–"

The shopkeeper stepped back from him, as if he thought there would be an explosion, the smile never leaving his face. "Try closing your eyes Kurosaki-kun. Forget the world, forget Karakura and look inwards..." Urahara pointed towards his chest. "–and perhaps you will hear it."

A message sent to his badge... that meant there was someone out there who couldn't contact him by regular means. If they went through this much trouble... he had to try.

Steeling himself, Ichigo closed his eyes and the sight of Urahara and the shop disappeared into a blur under his eyelids. His breathing evened out and he felt only the tingling of the badge in his hand and a buzzing in his ear. The alarm, which he thought had diminished, became louder and louder, a ringing so incessant that world around him seemed to fade from existence.

Wrapped in darkness, he found himself remembering another scene, another setting, one so blurred with age that he wasn't sure it hadn't been a dream... A memory of him standing among the black ruins of a city, atop a skyscraper like and unlike any other. The city had seemed to be continuously in motion, a flowing river of buildings and at the center of it, a man who was not a man, speaking in his rugged voice;

"_Abandon your fear. Look forward. Move forward and never stop. You'll age if you pull back. You'll die if you hesitate."_

Things used to be so much easier when his choices were white or black. When his decision would mean the life or death of someone he cared about, it had been rather simple to decide. Now he didn't know if he wanted to move forward. He had never wanted to return to the places he saw in his dreams, never wanted to really see them in the first place.

It was Urahara and the shop now, but soon...

He was afraid of finding out.

_...Abandon your fear..._

He had a normal life now, with no hard decisions, no fear of failure, and yet... Why wasn't he content? A simple life was in his grasp but he could never quite reach for it. Tatsuki. Chad. His friends had moved on, but for him, things would never be truly the same as it was before meeting a certain short lieutenant.

_I can't go back to who I was_, Ichigo realized and the ringing erupted in a symphony around him. _I never could. _

And...

He heard it then.

The sound of the alarm disappeared and in it's place came a myriad of countless voices, some high-pitched, others husky and sonorous, all coagulating in a single form, a message spoken in a million pitches. He heard a deep baritone that sounded familiar to him, rough and threatening. He heard a voice that resonated like chimes and another, barely a whisper. They first whispered to him, faintly and then spoke, yelled. Chanting the same words, the same sentences. Over and over again. Louder and louder, an angry swarm in his ears, in his head. Again and again, again and aga––

"Kurosaki– Kurosaki-kun! What do hear?"

He opened his eyes and the world came flooding back, Urahara in his bucket hat and wooden sandals, the aging shop with it's smudged walls.

Ichigo took a deep breath to still his hammering heart and repeated the words that still rang in his ears. "Hueco Mundo." He said.

"Help–" His voice cracked slightly. "Help us."

The badge had stopped buzzing and the only sounds came from whistling of wind in the night. "...He is coming."

Ichigo gazed up at the dark blanket of sky and wondered if the sky in Hueco Mundo was a similar color. The last voice, the deep baritone, slowly withered away. "No... he is _here_."

...

"I am having dreams lately. Dreams and odd thoughts about the past."

They had moved inside the shop and Ichigo was sitting under a _kotatsu,_ his lower body covered by the white futon.  
"Yes, that would be the badge's influence. The piece of spiritual power in the badge has been affecting you," replied Urahara. The shopkeeper leaned against the wall, holding his folding fan to his face.

"And you are sure it's from a hollow?" Ichigo asked.

"Quite. A shinigami's spiritual power has a certain presence. You could compare it to, say, the curling of a riptide or the falling of a petal during_ hanami._ Clear–" Urahara emphasized each word with a swing of his fan. " –effortless, powerful. A hollow's on the other hand, those are chaotic. Animalistic. An orchestra whereas a Shinigami's is a single verse."

The voices had been certainly chaotic and there was no doubt to the meaning of the message. But there was still something that didn't add up.

"Why am I able to hear the alarm– or message in the first place? I lost my Shinigami powers." He questioned.

"Perhaps the call was so strong that even a human could hear it." Urahara's voice was serious, as if he was contemplating it himself. "There have been many instances when ordinary citizens, without a drop of spiritual power, experience something they aren't supposed to; a hollow-like shadow on the wall, a flash of black across the sky." He pondered, gesturing slightly. "That might be what has occurred today... or perhaps not."

The shopkeeper sighed."Nevertheless, Kurosaki-kun, I suppose it's time to decide what you are going to do."

He shrugged. "It's not like I can do anything about it. And I'm not crazy enough to risk my life for some nameless hollows, there's no knowing what's going on in Hueco Mundo.

Urahara nodded his head in agreement."It might just be a feud between the remaining Espada... although it certainly seems like there is some demon terrorizing the desert."

A demon. Ichigo wondered if that was true, after all, the haunting message was still echoing through his head... "_He is coming." _

"Can't Soul Society do something about it? Or rather, why not just leave them to their own devices, less work for the Shinigami."

Urahara's eyes turned dark and cloudy for a split second, before he adopted a suspicious smile. "There is some nasty business in Soul Society at the moment, nothing that you should worry about however." The smile didn't reach his eyes and Ichigo was reminded of the secret meeting between his father and the shopkeeper months ago... _So this is the cause? _

"If there truly is a demon, it is murder we speak of, not purification. Similar to what a Quincy's bow will do. The ramifications to the balance of worlds could be catastrophic." Urahara explained. "I remember hearing an intriguing story, Kurosaki-kun... one about an ex-Espada member who saved you. Long green hair covered with bone?"

"Nel." Flowing green strands, flashed through his thoughts, specked with white.

"Yes, Neliel. It's quite possible she was the one who sent you this message." Urahara surmised.

_Nel._ Somehow, Ichigo didn't think so... the message had been disturbing and the voices threatening. Nel had always smiled at him.  
"Even if I wanted to help her... " He restated, getting up from under the _kotatsu_ and facing Urahara._"_I can't." _Not without my powers... _

"That's not a very good attitude Kurosaki-kun." Urahara said, a pout on his face.

Th shopkeeper slowly placed his folding fan on a nearby table and stared at him, his tone pensive."There are very few things that humans cannot do, and you are proof of this. You, a human who has been a Shinigami, a hollow, and a Vizard." His voice grew louder, filled with emotion. Almost with awe. "A boy who has befriended, saved, and killed a hundred times more than any other human."

Urahara sighed. "And you say 'I can't'... It's not the _can_ that is important Kurosaki-kun. It's the _will_. And I ask you now, will you, Kurosaki Ichigo, answer this plea for help? Will you set aside your fears– " _Abandon your fear... _"–will you become who you are meant to be, become the hero you were meant to be?"

The words lingered in his ears and sent shivers throughout his body. Fear. Fears and heroes. Hollows and Shinigamis.

He felt the badge digging into his hand._"What do you fear, Ichigo?"_

He had known the moment the sound had come from inside his pack. Had known that the tides were turning and the life he had lived so far was soon to disappear. He had known it and he hadn't run away. He could have told Tatsuki or called Ishida, yet he had spent the night searching for an answer, finding himself in Urahara's shop.

It had taken two years but now the time had come.

_I will not go backwards. _  
"Heh, don't ask if you already know the answer, shitty shopkeeper."

He smirked, seeing a satisfied look on Urahara's face."I don't know much about being a hero... but if someone needs my help, yeah, of course I will!"

"Good." Urahara replied laughingly. "Then you leave tonight."

...

* * *

_AN: the things I write always come out twice, three times as long. Sigh. Somehow one chapter outline became three chapters, although I think this one is my favorite. Last part of Monsters of Legend up soon I hope. :-) _


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